Try to Forgive, Teach Me to Live
by phangirloftheopera
Summary: What if Christine had gone with Erik instead of Raoul that night in the cementery? E/C Musical/Movie based with a touch of Leroux.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! This is my first phanphic. I imagine Ramin Karimloo and Sierra Boggress as Erik and Christine, because the 25th Anniversay Concert and the 2004 movie are the only versions I've seen. Please rate and review!**

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**Christine**

"Help me say goodbye…"

As I knelt at my father's grave, my mind wandered to picture Raoul. He was everything I had always wanted, and yet I was unhappy. Why? He wanted to give me everything. One love, one lifetime… Isn't that what he promised? Then why did he want me to star in _Don Juan Triumphant_? He was supposed to protect me, not force me into a living nightmare!

I had no choice. My other option… I shuddered simply thinking of it. The Phantom—my Angel, my teacher—was no longer the man I knew. He had killed Joseph Buquet without a second thought. _You knew Buquet, though,_ said a troublesome voice in my head._ He was always telling the ballerinas terrible stories and trying to catch your Angel._

"Stop it! That doesn't make him any less of a murderer!" I scolded my inner voice. "He killed a man, perhaps more than one! Good men are not killers. They protect, teach, and only want the best for the person they love."

_Isn't what your Angel does, however?_ the voice cried. _He taught you to sing. He wants you to be the star and get the spotlight you have earned. Most importantly, who was your friend when you came to the Opera Populaire? I don't recall Raoul guarding and guiding you then… Who is the true Angel? _

"He's not an Angel! Angels don't kill, lie, or hurt the people who are in their ways. You can no longer call him an Angel," I chastised myself. "He wants to take me away from Raoul, the man I love. Raoul, the sweet, kind man who loved me. _But Raoul is willing to put you in harm's way so his rival will be killed…_

No! I couldn't think that way. Raoul only wanted what was best for me, didn't he? I had to remember what he said: "While the Phantom lives, he will haunt us till we're dead." After the Phantom (_your Angel of Music_, the voice reminded me) was captured, Raoul and I would be happy together. We would marry! We would have children… As I pictured them, however, they were not the children of Raoul. They had my Angel's nose, his eyes… But they would be beautiful!

I shook the thought from my mind. IF—and that was a big if—my Angel could even have children, they would look like him. They would not be the beautiful children I imagined. _A face only a mother could love_, I thought wryly.

"Oh, Father, I wish you were here now," I whispered. I needed his guidance! He had promised me an angel from Heaven, not an angel of Hell. Raoul was an angel. He was kind, considerate, wealthy… Everything a bride-to-be should want. However, he wanted me to stop singing as soon as we were wed. "It's not proper," he had said. Did he not realize how important my music was? It let me soar!

On the other hand, there was the Phantom. He was dark, mysterious, and he loved me. He had loved me ever since I came to the opera house, although I had not recognized it then. In fact, I hadn't recognized it at all, until he sang and entranced my soul. I remembered removing his mask. I remembered his rage. He had cursed me; damned me; and, in his own way, immediately apologized. _Do you think Raoul would do that?_ that bothersome voice shouted. _Do you think he would admit to his mistakes? _I had to admit to myself that I doubted it. Raoul was a proud man. He never thought he was beneath me. He had often told me about how he was looked down upon because of me. I was a singer, hardly an honorable profession. _Your Angel would never make you stop the one thing you love_, the voice whispered._ He would only help you to grow. _

I felt my resolve to hate the Phantom wavering. "Stop!" I said to myself. "He is a murderer and nothing more! He deceived you! He tried to tell you he was an angel, when he was a demon!"

_A demon who loves you,_ I sadly thought. The knot in my stomach twisted. Did Raoul feel the same way? If he loved me as much as he said, why hadn't he tried to speak to me before I became a star? He had blamed his parents, of course. He never would say that anything was his fault. He was a good man, but not perfect. Did he love me? The engagement ring he had given me said that he did, but did his heart say the same?

"Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance…"

My heart swelled, even though my mind fought against it. I turned and saw him as he was. He was not a demon; he was not a monster. He was angry at the world, hurt, and alone. I thought back to that time when I was those things. Who was my savior then? Not Raoul! No, my Angel had comforted me and taught me to sing. I knew what I must do.

"Come to me, Angel of Music!" His voice put me in a trance, like it did nearly every time he sang for me. It filled every part of my being, made me forget all my troubles, and drew me forward. He might have been the Phantom, but to me, he was still my Angel. My beautiful, perfect Angel.

"Christine!" I heard Raoul behind me. He tried to break my trance, but it was fruitless. I knew I could not return to him. My Angel would think I betrayed him, yet again, if I did. I focused again on my Angel. Hopefully, Raoul would misunderstand. Perhaps he would send guards after me. Thankfully, my Angel's home was massive and confusing. I had been lost after I awoke the night after _Hannibal_. They would never find us. I could lie to Raoul, or, better still, escape with my Angel! I smiled at the thought, and took my Angel's hand.

I followed him. To where, I did not yet know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! Thank you for the reviews. Remember, I love nice reviews and constructive criticism (though not so mean that I have to go bang on my organ-er, piano-for hours at a time). **

**I don't own anything! Even though it makes me very sad, everything belongs to Leroux and Webber. **

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**Erik**

Had Christine really just come to me? I expected a fight. Yes, I loved her, but I hadn't ever thought she would willingly come. That "perfect" boy was there, calling her, but she hardly glanced his way. I almost thought that I saw a small smirk when she turned and met my eyes again. I tried to avoid thinking about it. She must have been plotting to hurt me, like she had so many times before. My heart broke every time she turned away. It was she thought I would do anything, even kill her beloved Raoul, to be with her! I hated him with every inch of my being, but she would not love me if I did so. I had to win her love. I had decided that long ago, and I planned to fight as long as I could.

My mind jumped back into the present. Why was she coming? I was a living corpse. I was the Devil's Child. I was not one to be led by an angel…

Unlike the night I first took her into my home, she did not resist. Actually, she was leading me! _What had gotten into this child?_ I wondered. _It's as if…_ NO! I banished the thought from my mind. She was an angel, and I was the Devil's Child. No angel could care about such a monster from Hell. As she pulled me to the gondola, her words from that awful night floated back to me. Promising to spend forever with that boy had nearly broken me for good. No wonder it had taken me so long to make another appearance. That time was filled with planning, anger, and a new goal: to make Christine finally see the man behind the monster and have love turn from fear.

It was hard, yes, but I wanted to do it. I wanted her to love me. I didn't want her to forget what we had had. I loved her! I had always loved her. Even when she was a little girl, I had always had a hope, however small, that she could feel the same way. I wanted to tell her how ardently I admired her, but I was always afraid. She was strong-willed yet innocent; kind yet rebellious. Even though she was so good, I had deceived her. I told her I was an angel, when truly I was a demon. Of course, I had a reason for this. Why would an angel wish to see a monster? If she would have known what I was, she never would have spoken to me. Without her, I wasn't sure I still be under the opera house. Without her voice, I had very little reason to live.

I rowed the gondola across the lake, marveling at Christine's beauty. Anxiety was in her eyes, but there was something else there too. Was it…love? No! To imagine her caring so deeply for me was simply preposterous. I chuckled slightly at the thought. She whipped around with questions in her eyes, but my look of "innocence" (ha! as if I could actually be innocent) was apparently satisfactory, because she once again gazed toward my home.

"Angel, will you sing for me once more? I've missed your voice so." Christine's voice snapped me out of my trance. Were we back at my home already?

"Of course, child, but first, why? Why have you returned to me? Doesn't your fiancée prevent you from seeing me?"

Her face pinched. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "Oh, Angel, don't cry! You know I hate it when you cry," I pleaded.

"Oh, I can't choose! Please don't make me choose. I love… I love…"

_Say it, _my mind begged._ Say you love either one or the other, so I can try to live once more. _A quieter voice (one that I tried so hard not to listen to) pleaded for her to whisper my name._ I need you. I love you._

**Christine**

What was I doing? I was engaged to another, and about to swear my love to my Angel, an angel whose name I didn't know. I felt faint. While I kept my head from spinning, I attempted to switch topics.

"Angel, you have never told me your name." He looked at me quizzically, but I continuing trying. "Will you please tell me your name?"

"My name is Erik." He swallowed, as if it pained him to say it.

"Erik." It suited him. "What a lovely name!"

Suddenly, the Phantom's anger came out once more. "Lovely?" he spat. "Was it lovely that my mother never touched me? That she considered me a disgrace? That the first piece of clothing she gave me was a mask? Lovely, that I have look like THIS?"

He ripped off his wig and mask. I had seen it before, but it still shocked me. At the sound of my gasp, he fell to my feet and sobbed.

"Go! Forgive me, forget me. Such a monster does not deserve such an Angel. Return to your boy. Let me die in peace!"

His words cut to my core. He was willing to give me up. Would Raoul do the same? Would he let me pick his rival? _"Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care,"_ Raoul's words echoed in my mind. _But you don't!_ I thought bitterly. _You were willing to put my life in danger to hurt your rival._ After taking a deep breath, I bent down and lifted Erik's chin. Staring into his eyes, I did not see a hideous, evil man. I saw a terrified little boy who had to grow up much too fast.

"Erik. Angel, please don't send me away!" Tears prickled in my eyes once again. "I don't want to live without you. You are my..." I swallowed my fear and caressed his malformed cheek. "You are my love."

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**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks everyone for the reviews! I'm glad you all liked the last chapter, but unfortunately you are probably going to hate me after this one. Life will be good again in just three chapters, I swear!**

**Remember, I don't own anything or anyone. **

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**Erik**

I stopped breathing. Was I dead? Had I been killed in the graveyard? Surely that boy had murdered me. After all, he believed that I was a fate worse than death for Christine. He had "warned" me that a disaster was coming. Perhaps he was less dim-witted than I had previously believed. That boy could have put me out of my misery finally. I must have been in Heaven. How could that be? I had done such horrible things; I had to have been in Hell. But why was Christine there with me?

"You… You love me?"

"Yes, I love you! You are cruel, and angry, and hurtful, but you are also kind, and generous, and… the man that I love. Please believe me."

"How?" My voice cracked slightly. "How can you love such a monster, such a demon?"

"You were a friend when I had no one; a guiding light when I was lost; and you wanted me to be a star! When no one else cared for me, you did. You are not a demon, Angel. I love you!"

Her palm gently caressed my cheek. It was soft, delicate, desperate. She was begging me, but for what? She couldn't truly believe that I could give her anything! I wanted her to see past my face and rage; I wanted her to forget all that had happened and simply love me.

She seemed puzzled at my silence. She leaned forward until our faces were nearly touching. "Angel, please," she breathed. "I love you." Then, she did the impossible, the incredible, the unthinkable.

She kissed me.

I was frozen. Surely, I was in Heaven. The love of my life was kissing me, with her own free will! If I had forced her to be with me (as I planned to during my opera), I never would have kissed her. I would have cared for her every whim, but never done anything to satisfy my needs. Yes, I knew she would have hated me for taking her originally, but that could be overcome. Kissing her, such a horrible violation, could not.

She broke away, tears streaming down her face. "Angel, what are you doing? I love you. I chose you. I want to marry you. Take me away from Raoul. You can tell everyone I died; I don't care. Please, just let me be with you."

"What about your lover?" I replied. "He will come after you if take you. He might find us."

"He isn't important!" she cried. "Think of it: a secret engagement with your future bride! Just think of it. We could be living in the countryside somewhere, with beautiful children. We could be together. You could leave this Godforsaken place."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Christine was ready to leave everything she knew in order to be with me. It was exciting and wonderful, yet her words worried me. She wanted a home, children. How was I to give her that?

"Erik, say something, I beg you. We can leave now, if you like. We could even stay, if that would please you! Just tell me what you are thinking."

"No, Christine," I whispered.

"Angel, I will do whatever you want. Lead me to where you want to go! I could go ahead of you, if you wish to prepare yourself. I simply need an idea of what you want."

Her eyes betrayed a furious passion. My heart was breaking. How could I tell this girl that I couldn't let her do exactly what I dreamed she would?

"Christine, you need to go back to the land of the living. Return to your lover; I have no reason to speak to you further."

"Why?" she shrieked. "I am ready to give you my entire live, and you are willing to simply throw me away! Why are you resisting me? Isn't this what you wanted?

"I might be what I wanted at one point, but now I know you are making the WRONG CHOICE!" I bellowed. "What kind of life could I give you, next to your Vicomte? I couldn't give you children, I couldn't leave the house with you, and what would I do for a living? I cannot be with you."

"And why not?" Her stubbornness came through once again. "Why can't you give me children? Why can't you leave the house with me? We can leave, Erik! There is a life other than at the Opera Populaire!"

"No!" I growled. "I haven't known anything else since I left that fair so many years ago. Should I sell my face again? Is that how you expect me to take care of you, like the monster that I am? Isn't that right, Christine? I know what you are thinking, and it's true. I am nothing more than a MONSTER!"

"That's not a reason, Angel! You are a good man, a kind man! People were terrible to you, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve happiness! Let me give that to you, please?"

I retreated to my organ. I could feel her eyes cutting into me. "GO! Leave me! You made me weak. You took away my power, and you made me forget who I was. I am finished, Christine. Let me live as I did before you ruined me!"

I knew how deep those words cut, and she reacted as I expected. She gasped, and I knew I had done it. I had hurt her so deeply, so poisonously, that she would have to leave. Someday, perhaps, she would forgive me. I hoped I would never see her again. The emotional pain was too great when I was around her. A life with her—seeing her sadness at the sight of our children, the loneliness of always being only with me—would hurt her so badly! She was a dove; I could not, _would_ not, cut her wings in that way.

My words seemed harsh (even to my own ears), but I needed to get away. I needed to think… I needed an escape.

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**Again, sorry, but please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks everyone for the wonderful reviews! Hope you all are having a fantastic week!**

**I don't own anyone or anything (sigh).**

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**Christine**

"Let me live as I did before you ruined me!"

Usually, I could forgive my Angel's outbursts. He had a temper; I knew that it must be overcome to be with him. That, however, ripped my heart in half. I stood silently for several seconds, trying to find a word, a phrase, anything to explain the pain I was feeling. His eyes burned far into mine. "Fine," I whispered. "You'll never see me again." His face softened and he started to say something—but he was too late.

Turning away, I sprinted up to the opera house once more. I shook with rage. How dare he say such horrible things! Had I not cared for him? Had I not admitted my love for him? Did he not care? I couldn't stay there any longer. I needed to leave, but how? I could scarcely afford a room to stay in if I left, let alone a carriage ride. Raoul surely wouldn't pay for me to run away. The stable was my only option. I quickly took out a black stallion. He stared at me forlornly, as if he knew my plans to run away, but he allowed me to climb on. I pushed him into a gallop—I was gone.

Days passed before I returned to the opera house. I had spent a few nights in a hotel on the edge of Paris, trying to clear my head. Erik had offered me some strong arguments, but what to think of them? He said he couldn't give me children. Was it because he was unable, or because he was afraid due to his face? What if his children ended up looking just like him? Did I care? If I could love him, I could love my own flesh and blood. If he could not give me children, I would still be happy. Yes, I had always imagined myself as a mother, but being with Erik would be worth the sacrifice. He had also said he could not afford to take care of me and that he would be unable to have a career. However, he had told me that he was not only a composer, but also an architect and inventor. Surely he could earn money. And what had happened to those twenty thousand francs a month for so many years? He couldn't have spent it. Money would be no object. Finally, why couldn't he leave the house with me? If we left the country, no one would recognize him. We could start a new life for him, a new life with me.

Raoul could give me so many things, but my Angel could give me love. Raoul hadn't even noticed me until I sang! If he had loved me as much as he swore he had, why didn't he found me? Why didn't he contact me after my father died? The more I thought about it, the more I saw things that I shouldn't have missed. He was only concerned about his image. He was a naïve boy who cared purely about what others thought of him. He might have spoiled me, but I wanted his love, not his money.

I knew I needed to see Erik. I had to apologize for leaving him, even if he was truly wrong. He loved me (at least I thought he did) and wanted the best for me. That was why he had let me go, wasn't it? That had to be the reason. Nothing else made sense…Unless, of course, he did not wish to marry me. The thought frightened me beyond belief, so I knew exactly where I needed to go: to Erik's home.

The meticulous trek down to Erik's realm was more frightening than ever before. Without Erik's guidance, I became lost more than once. Finally, I ended up near the entryway. I stepped inside, expecting to hear the organ and Erik singing softly. However, I couldn't have been more wrong. Everything was gone! All that remained was one small table, a note, and my engagement ring.

With shaking hand, I read the note.

_Christine,_

_ I am no angel. I have killed; I have hurt; and because you are reading this, I have finally done something right. I had to leave you. I am not a man; I am a demon. Please live your life as you should. Please don't try to find me. Be the star you deserve to be. Live a life with Raoul, as you deserve to. Be happy. Perhaps someday you will tell your children about me, about the man that ruined your life. Perhaps you will send Raoul to find and hang me. It does not matter anymore. Please, you must forget me forever. Pretend I was only a nightmare, one that you finally escaped. Hate me, despise me, and forget me. I don't deserve to be loved as you should be. Please forgive me. I loved you, so much._

_ Always yours, _

_ Erik_

"No!" I cried. How could he leave me? He loved me, didn't he? After curling up into a ball, I sobbed myself to sleep on the floor of Erik's once beautiful realm.

Over a week had passed. Raoul accused me of being "different," and he was not wrong. I was angry, moody, and depressed. André and Firmin had wanted to make me a chorus girl again, because my voice was gone. I simply could not sing with the beauty or joy I had before. Unfortunately, Raoul refused to let them. He threatened to withdraw his funding, and after the _Il Muto _disaster, they needed the funds. Raoul continued to court me, but I no longer had any interest. I could not imagine my life as a housewife with no life of my own. I was unhappy, yes, but taking away the last thing I had—my love for music—would surely break me.

Raoul thought that Erik had kidnapped me that night at the cemetery. He constantly asked me what "that demon" had done to me to make me come in. I usually stopped his questioning with a shake of the head or a look of terror. I tried to convince him that I could not say what had happened, for it was too horrible to admit. He believed me, thankfully. Still, he swore revenge on my Angel. I felt my stomach sink each time Raoul threatened Erik. What would happen if Erik ever returned?

Rehearsals continued for _Don Juan Triumphant_. I could not tell my managers that their attempts to draw out the Phantom would be fruitless, for I would be imprisoned as an accomplice. I continued to sing, yet the love, the passion, was no longer in my voice. Piangi was not nearly seductive or powerful enough for the role of Don Juan. We lacked the chemistry to feel as Aminta and Don Juan would have felt. My Angel… He would have been the perfect Don Juan. Even the chorus knew how terrible it was. If Erik knew how they were destroying his opera… I shuddered at the thought.

I also had to worry about what to do with Raoul. He still wanted to run away with me after the performance, but I did not have the heart to go with him. He was a childhood sweetheart, but only that. I loved him as a child, but I was an adult now. Something had changed within me, and I could not live the way I had previously. I couldn't leave with Raoul, could I?

"Erik, please come back," I whispered one night to the moonless sky. "I need you."

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**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks everyone for the reviews! This chapter should make everyone happier... I hope! Please continue to review.**

**I don't own anything, unfortunately.**

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**Erik**

Yes, I left her. She deserved so much more than I was. I was too old, too angry, and too dangerous for her. She was perfect. I had killed! I had never killed without reason, but that wasn't an excuse. If she married me and I was arrested… She would be an outcast or sent to prison. My poor, sweet Christine couldn't go through that. It would ruin her. Her sparkle would simply vanish.

Was the note necessary? I hoped not. I hoped that she would never return, never remember her Angel. _But you do want her to remember_, my heart scolded. _You need her. You miss her. You love her._

My temper and self-loathing were my downfalls, yet I knew they could not be overcome easily. Christine had tried to tell me she loved me; I thought it was pity. I saw myself as beneath her and acted accordingly. Her reaction to my outburst showed that she truly cared about me, but she ran before I could apologize. I overreacted, as I often did, and it greatly upset her. How was I to marry a woman when I could not control my own temper? I would never hurt my sweet Christine; but if some else offended her, I was not sure I could restrain myself. If she would ever forgive me, I needed to improve my attitude before I could be with her, before I committed another unforgivable act. Of course, this was assuming she even wanted to see me once again. Could she forgive my stupidity?

The very thought of her made me ill. I thought about her constantly. Was she with that boy? Were they married? Would he let her continue singing? A man of such social standing couldn't possibly believe that a prima donna as a wife was proper. But how could he not let her sing? Her voice showed her passion, joy, and love for life. Even when she had done poorly at a lesson, I never could scold her harshly. She still had the love and beauty in her singing that Carlotta lacked. The thought of her not singing any longer…

If I thought like that, I was sure to die.

As time passed, I felt sicker and sicker. It was as if the life was draining from my body. Really, it was true—what did I have to live for? The agony made me give in, and I decided that I would return for _Don Juan_'s premiere. If Christine was happy, I would leave in peace. Her boy could take her away, and I would feel comforted by the fact that she was cared for. If she was unhappy…I couldn't hope for that. Watching her and that boy together had hurt me before; crushing my hopes would kill me.

Finally, the night of the premiere occurred. I heard Raoul and my managers—my EX-managers, I reminded myself—telling the police where to go, and to shoot to kill. They assumed I would be in Box Five, as I normally was. They did not expect me to be in a passageway behind the stage, able to hear each and every word.

My opera began, but Christine… Where had her voice gone? Before, it was strong and passionate, but it sounded empty now, like her soul had left her. The joy in her voice was gone. _She probably is just anxious to leave with her boy_, I thought. _She's worried I will come back to haunt her again._

After what seemed like hours, my song began. It was my masterpiece, my love for Christine written in song. _The Point of No Return_ made the rest of my work look like child's play. I snuck down to the wings, just far enough that Christine might see me, but the police could not. Piangi was too dense to notice. Christine seemed so hollow still… I crept forward once more.

**Christine**

A flash of white caught my eye. _Someone's just moving about in the wings, _I thought. Still… I turned my head. I gasped, nearly missing my line. It was Erik! I felt my voice becoming stronger, more beautiful by the second. The hollowness was gone. I hoped he knew that I was only singing for him.

The opera ended with a standing ovation. The applause I that I had once relished now seemed so tedious. I was so impatient to get back to my dressing room; I needed to see him. Finally, I was free to return. I threw open the door…

Erik was nowhere to be seen. Raoul was standing there, looking delighted. He held a bouquet of yellow flowers (Why would he give me yellow roses? Red roses were romantic; yellow reminded me of funerals) and his bag, prepared to leave. I couldn't take it…

Where was I? I was not in my bed. No, this was much too rich for anything in the opera house. I looked around wildly, trying to figure out where I was. "Christine, dear, please relax. You're safe at last!"

Internally, I groaned. Of course I was in Raoul's mansion. After fainting, where else would he take me? He promised to take me away, and he had. Unfortunately, this was definitely not where I wished to be taken to.

"Raoul, what happened? I feel so strange."

He patted my hand sympathetically. "You fainted, dear. The doctor said you must have overexerted yourself. It was not worth it, I'm afraid. We didn't catch that-that THING."

"Don't call him that!" I screeched before I could stop myself. At his look of surprise, I added quickly, "He's nothing but a man, Raoul." Silently scolding myself, I felt something new on my left hand. Fiddling at it with my fingers, I looked to Raoul for an explanation. "What is that? Is it… Oh my!"

It was an engagement ring. This one was so elaborate and gaudy. It was not beautiful; it made me feel self-conscious. Anyone who would wear this was simply searching for attention. It was not my style at all. "Don't you love it? It's perfect for a Vicomtess, don't you think?" Raoul stated proudly.

Actually, I could not think of anything less perfect. A perfect ring would be one from Erik, not Raoul and his foolish love. "Yes, dear, I love it." His grin widened. I willed myself to not vomit all over his shoes.

"You'll be so pleased then… I've scheduled our wedding!" My heart dropped below my stomach.

"For when?" I tried to sound a least slightly excited. Maybe I would have time to accept and love him...

"Tomorrow evening! After all the stress you've been under, I thought we need to be finally happy as soon as possible."

In that moment, it was as if I died. There was no way I would be happy in that marriage so soon. I was terrified I was going to swoon again. "My dear, I need a moment. I need a moment to think about all of this, Angel."

Before I could realize what I said, he began to rage. "How DARE you call me the same thing you called that demon! How DARE you! You love me, not that MONSTER! My family thinks I should find someone else, someone better, someone more appropriate for a Vicomte; but I pitied you. Yes, I pity you enough to want to marry you, even after you went to that DEMON in the cemetery." With that, he slapped me.

My mind went blank. Raoul was self-centered and somewhat cruel, it was true; but I never imagined he would hit me. I cried out in shock. "Now don't you dare cry, you ungrateful girl! I saved you from him. You need to start acting better, or you won't ever have a chance with a man like me!" With that, he turned and left the room.

"Oh, Erik," I cried. He would never hit me. He might get angry, but he refused to hurt me. He never thought he was above me, that I was someone to be pitied. He would never threaten to ruin my reputation. "I wish you were here to save me. Where did you go, Angel?"

A note fluttered onto my balcony. Careful not to make a sound, I went to pick it up. Unfolding it with trembling hands, I read the message.

_Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light, and listen to the music of the night._

_I will see you soon. Please, don't do anything rash…_

Those beautiful lyrics! That handwriting! It was Erik. I knew what he meant…and I started planning my nighttime flee.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry everyone! It's been a crazy week, and I didn't have Internet for a little while there... Thanks you all for reviewing and continuing to follow!**

**And regarding notes-Unfortunately, my computer hates every font there is, so I have to simply stick to bold, italicized, or underlined notes. If you would like something different, please use your imagination!**

**I don't own anything, sigh.**

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**Erik**

When I saw Christine's face, I realized that she wasn't waiting for Raoul; rather, she was looking for me! I waited until she left the stage to slip into her dressing room, because I knew someone might see and alert the police if I entered too early. Imagine my surprise when I saw Raoul walking away, looking thoroughly displeased. He was carrying her body; on top of her figure was a pile of yellow roses (Who on earth gives yellow roses to a lover? I had never had a love, but even I knew that was bizarre) and his hat, balanced as if he was more concerned about their welfare than Christine's. In fact, when the hat began sliding forward, that fool nearly dropped my Angel!

He put her in a carriage in front of the opera house and quickly rode off. I took off toward the stable; I knew where they were going, but I needed a faster way to follow. Getting a horse took a little more time, yet compared in the time it would take to walk, that extra minute was well worth it. I followed them back to the Vicomte's mansion.

_My home is grander_, I thought smugly. I could see through the glass door to her balcony quite easily. I watched him place her on a bed and slip a ring onto her delicate hand. _Oh, the nerve of that boy!_ I thought bitterly. _Giving her a ring before she has the chance to refuse._ Before she awoke, I silently climbed up some vines beneath to her balcony. It was difficult, yes, but I needed to be closer. I needed to see what was going to happen to my poor Christine!

After she awoke, her displeasure at seeing him there was obvious. He continued to speak, acting as if he was completely oblivious to her unhappiness. It was not until he slapped her that I felt truly angry, however. I had to physically hold myself back. How I wanted to kill him! However, I knew that Christine would be completely furious if I did. After he left, I scaled the vines onto the roof and sent a note. I knew she would understand it. It was my style, and if she truly loved me, she knew what I hoped she would do.

Time seemed to grind to a halt after she found my note. She paced back and forth across her bedroom floor. Finally, after the sunset, she came onto the balcony.

"Angel?" she murmured. "Erik, I need you. Please save me."

Oh, how my heart soared every time she said my name. I had always hated being called "Erik", as it reminded me of my childhood, but she made it sound like sweet music. "Be patient, my love," I whispered. "We must not cause a disturbance."

Her eyes found me immediately at the sound of my voice. I had always thought I was quite the ventriloquist; apparently, I was wrong. "Careful, love," I sighed, "we can't let them realize that I am here."

She seemed to understand this request, and smiled sadly. "I almost can't bear to wait any longer," she said. My horror rose like bile as Raoul walked out onto the balcony.

"Neither can I, my love, but the ceremony must be tomorrow. Now, it is time for your dress fitting."

I rolled my eyes. What kind of dress would Raoul have picked out? When the seamstress entered the bedroom, I nearly burst out laughing. The dress was completely over-the-top. I did not watch while she changed (that would be improper, would it not?), although her lovely fiancée did. I could hear his cries of "Ingenious!" and "Marvelous!" from my perch on the roof. It was not until I heard, "Raoul, my dear, are you sure that I should look like this?" that I looked at her.

Full sleeves, full skirt, and full beading overpowered Christine's small frame. My Christine had turned into a dress! Her lovely frame and beautiful skin were totally submerged in white satin and beadwork. The seamstress returned with a veil. It was opaque, completely covering her features. Something was placed over her chocolate curls to hide them, resulting in a blizzard of white fluff. _MY dress is much better_, a voice in my head smirked.

That boy twirled my Angel around as if she was merely a toy. He grasped at her small waist, only to miss because of all the excess fluff. He cleared his throat awkwardly and made another failed attempt; he simply took her hands on the third try. Her face twitched. Was she laughing at him? "Oh, sweetheart, you look so enchanting!" The seamstress left. Looking thrilled with the sudden privacy, he added, "Now, aren't you glad to be marrying me, instead of that—that thing?"

"Of course, dear."

My heart shattered into a thousand minute pieces. Had she just been lying to me all this time? Did she just pity me? I clenched my fist to my chest. This was worse than the night I saw them on the roof. They were plotting to capture me; I began to climb down, before a guard could emerge and arrest me.

"Really, Raoul." I froze at the sound of her voice. "I mean, how could I love someone who has always adored, cared for, and guided me? It's much better to love someone who wouldn't even speak to me until I became a star. In fact, I can't understand why I ever thought him so wonderful, charming, and handsome in the very first place!"

She might have been foolish, but how I loved her!

"I'm glad you agree, darling! That hell-spawn demon… Wait, what did you say?"

_Really, Raoul? _I celebrated this small victory, until Raoul could close his gaping mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews. This week and last have been completely strange; sorry I haven't been updating as much as usual. However, there will be another chapter coming Thursday or Friday, and definitely one Sunday!**

**Oh, and although Raoul is not a great character in this story, in the next story I am working on, he is actually an ally! If, of course, you guys would like me to upload it later on.**

**I don't own anything, and please keep reviewing! It really makes my day.**

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**Christine**

I knew I shouldn't have said anything, but I couldn't waste the opportunity! I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was so drunk; combined with his normal unbelievably dense behavior, I had hoped he would miss the comment.

"Don't you wish to marry me? I'm your fiancée! You promised to marry me, not that demon!" Raoul screamed. "I took you, when no one else would! I am the only one who wanted you! Who was there for your last performance? Me! Your demon was nowhere in sight. No, he didn't come to your show. This opera that was supposedly written for you wasn't enough to draw him to you. He realizes that you are nothing. You are nothing without me!"

His eyes bore into mine. He was trying to intimidate me, I knew, but I wasn't afraid. I KNEW my Angel would save me. He HAD to save me, didn't he?

"Just because you didn't find him, Raoul, does not mean he wasn't there."

He gasped. "You—you fool! How dare you betray me! You let that monster escape? He wants to kill me! What is the reason for your insanity? Truly he must have done something to you!"

As the tense moments passed without a sound, I became more and more anxious. Where was Erik? Did he decide I wasn't worthy of his love? Did he think that I was being serious when I said I was glad to marry Raoul?

"Please, Christine. Don't be foolish! Do you REALLY want to be a ballet girl for the rest of your life? André and Firmin only let you sing because HE forced them to. Carlotta is the star. She always has been! You are simply a replacement. When Carlotta is upset, they need you! Otherwise, they would never speak to you again. You are, and always will be, just a ballet girl with too many lovers."

I was used to hearing the whispers behind the curtains, but Raoul's comment stung. _Did Erik agree?_ that bothersome whisper said. _Does he think I'm just a plain ballet girl?_

_ Don't be silly,_ my pride whispered back. _He taught you everything he knows. Why would he do such a thing, if he didn't think you had potential? He always practiced with you; even when he was annoyed with you, he still managed to coax beautiful melodies out. If he did not care for you, he wouldn't have done such a thing!_

_ Pity, _the other voice spat. _He always pitied you. He must have heard you sobbing one day, and simply decided to try to help you. You did cry often enough! Perhaps it irritated him until he felt he had to do something to help you. You had a decent voice, so he played with it. However, I'm sure if your dancing wasn't so atrocious, he might have fixed that instead! No, he taught you to sing out of pity. You had no real talent._

"Well, Christine? Are you going to make the wrong choice, once again? Are you going to be what I always knew you were: a stupid, worthless brat?"

"Please, Raoul, you're drunk! Go rest, you'll feel better. You can be quite cruel when you drink too much. It truly will help if you stop!"

I had hoped he would calm down, but my comment made it worse. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "I'm DRUNK? That's not surprising. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to look at your hideous face! The alcohol is the only thing that helps, these days. What happened, your precious demon swore his love to you, and you realized you don't have to be pretty anymore? Well, sweetheart, you're here with me. He's nowhere to be found, is he? No, he left you. He, apparently, was wiser than I am. I must give him more credit. Next time I see him, remind me to apologize. After, of course, I report him to the police, so he can be hung."

I felt my eyes water. _He's right, isn't he? Erik's nowhere to be found. Maybe Raoul is right. Maybe I AM too hideous for anyone._

His eyes softened slightly. "Christine, you just make me feel so worthless sometimes. I try so hard to make you love me, to make you see how bad your life could be, but you refuse to see it. I want to be with you, Christine. I am just too tired of how you never make up your mind! You treat me so badly, don't you understand? Oh, why bother? I need a drink."

With that, he stormed off, only to turn around and cover my mouth. He wrapped something around my wrists and leaned me against the bed. I could not scream; it was difficult to breathe, much less make a sound. He grinned, put a finger to his lips, and sat down in the corner…

He was trying to trap Erik!


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for the reviews... Please continue to!**

**I don't own anything.**

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**Erik**

My poor Christine! How could Raoul be so cruel? Calling her worthless and ugly… She was the most beautiful angel in all of Heaven!

I had so wanted to see Christine, to help her, but I knew the timing wasn't right. If I wasn't careful, Raoul would just send me to prison and keep Christine as his prisoner. And he thought I was the monster! I slowed unclenched my fists, ready to close them on that boy's neck.

"Christine?" I whispered. "Angel, please say something, anything, to me. Are you badly hurt?"

All I could hear were her muffled sobs. I could not tell if that boy had tried to muffle her or if she was crying into a pillow, nor did I care. I simply needed to rescue her. I climbed onto the balcony with ease. It was quite dark, so I could not see anything inside. I slipped into her room like a cat.

My eyes quickly adjusted to the dim candlelight. My Angel was on the bed, but she was not moving. Did she not see me? No, a look of fear crossed her face at the sight of me. She glanced into a corner and sobbed harder. I turned to see what she was looking at, but I was too late. I felt something whack the back of my skull, and then, all was calm.

"Erik! Erik, please!" an angel's voice cried in my ear. My head pounded; I had suffered terrible headaches in the past, but none like this.

"Erik!" My poor ears couldn't take it. I rolled over and shrank into a ball.

"Erik! Wake up Erik… You can't leave me!"

My eyes snapped open at the sound of Christine's plea. She needed me! That was enough.

"Wha—what happened? Where am I?" She pulled me into her lap and stroked my wig.

"Erik, we need to get out of here. Raoul hit you over the head, and now he's going to get the police, after…"

"After?" I prompted.

"After you watch the wedding. He wants to make you suffer, Angel. He wants to see both of us suffer!"

My body tightened as shock coursed through my veins. Christine must have noticed, because she held me closer, rocking me back and forth.

"Christine, angel, where are we?"

She paused, as if she was contemplating responding. "Well?" I asked.

She jumped slightly at my sudden agitation. I forced myself to be more patient with her; she was still so young! "Dear, I know it must be difficult to think about, but where did Raoul take you after he hit me?"

"I don't know. I think we're still in the mansion, but I can't be sure. He said he didn't want to leave us together, but the thought of us apart was worse. I think he thought you would escape before he could return, so he made us both prisoners. I really don't know how to get out, Angel. I don't know if we can… Only a ghost can escape this."

I smiled. "What did they call me back at the Opera Populaire?"

For the first time in what seemed like years, Christine threw her head back and laughed. "I knew we'd be fine, Angel! I knew you would rescue me!"

My heart swelled with joy at this child, this girl, this angel. She believed in me, so she would be my reason to escape this nightmare.

"Angel, do you have any idea how we got here? I know it's difficult, but could you try to remember?" I asked as kindly as I could. I knew Christine needed some sympathy after her ordeal with Raoul.

"I—I don't know. He blindfolded me, Angel. He yelled whenever I tripped… OH! We went down a flight of stairs! A spiral staircase... I kept running into the sides."

I bristled at the thought of how cruelly Christine was treated. Did Raoul really have no love for his supposed fiancée? However, I knew what I had to do. All those years of composing in the dark had taught me how to see in very low lighting. Unfortunately, it was almost too dark for me. I squinted around, trying to see a staircase. I found a wall, and started to move myself about the edge.

"Angel? What are you doing?"

Christine's voice broke my concentration. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm trying to find the staircase—or the door that leads to it, because you apparently can't remember something so simple as where it is!"

"Can I help you?" she asked timidly.

I silently cursed myself for snapping at her. My temper had gotten the best of me, as it did often. I silently vowed to be kinder to her. She was an angel; she deserved to be treated as such.

"Forgive me, Erik. I'll leave you to your work. I shouldn't bother you so—"

"Nonsense. Come here." I took her hand and showed her how to feel for a gap, a door, or a railing. She caught on quickly, so I started on the other side of the room.

"Oh! What's this?"

I stumbled over to her voice. Christine had found something with glass, a handle, and wood panes… A window! I felt desperately for the hatch. Something came off in my hand; I could tell that it was rust. There would be no way I would be strong enough to push the window open by myself. Cursing under my breath, I turned to Christine. "I'm…going to need your help," I muttered.

She seemed thrilled. "What do you need Angel? I'll do anything."

"You need to hold this," showing her the latch. She flinched under my icy hands. "I'm sorry, I can do it myself. Just go stand over there; I know how terribly cold my hands must feel to you…"

"No, Erik, I was just surprised. Please, continue."

Placing my hands over hers, we pushed together. I felt the rust break under our hands, and it creeked open. She turned to kiss my cheek. "Erik, you did it! Hurry, we must get away before—"

"What's going on down here?"

Raoul stood by the missing stairwell. He was obviously still drunk, and only holding a candlestick. I hoped he was going to burn himself, but already all my dreams had already come true; I couldn't be greedy…

"Ouch!" Wax had dripped down his hand. "Christine! Come here this instant!"

I climbed out the window and gave Christine my hand. She attempted to jump over the edge, but that blasted wedding dress caught on the latch. "Erik! Help me!" she whispered frantically.

Raoul was getting closer. I grabbed the dress, pulled as hard as I could, and RIIIIP! Christine was free. Just as Raoul went to climb out the window, I dropped it on his fingers.

I could hear his curses through the glass as I helped Christine to her feet. He opened the window, but we were already out of reach. Christine took my hand, much like she had the other night, and pulled me into the night.

"This is not the end, Phantom!" he shouted. "Christine shall be mine!" With that, we disappeared into the darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks everyone for the reviews! Here's the next chapter; I hope you all enjoy it.**

**I don't own anything (and I'm pretty sure I won't anytime in the forseeable future).**

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**Christine**

Raoul's threat terrified me more than the thought of Erik's opera ever had. I was shaking by the time we stopped in a nearby park in order calm down. I had no idea what Raoul would go through in order to take me back. I knew he thought I was his property; in a way, it was technically true. I was betrothed to him. It was expected that I fufilled my promise and married him. However, I was an adult woman. I was strong, independent, and stubborn. It was my right to make my own decisions, and I refused to submit so easily. I was prepared to fight Raoul with all my strength.

Erik looked as frightened as I felt. He sat down on a bench, pale and trembling. I could not tell if he was still ill from being hit by Raoul or simply horrified by the situation. I took his hand, trying to calm his nerves. He did not respond, so I attempted another tactic. When I went to embrace him, Erik gasped and stood up in shock.

"Oh God! Christine, we have to find you another outfit! The police will be looking for you, and a bridal gown will be obvious. First, though, you must hide! Get as far away from me as possible. If they find you apart from me, perhaps they'll assume I took you and you escaped. Yes, that seems relatively better, don't you think?"

"Erik! I am not going to abandon you. I chose you, remember?"

"Don't be foolish. I suppose we could find you suitable clothing first; the dress is slightly overwhelming."

"'Slightly overwhelming?'" I snorted. "Is that what you call this atrocity?" He looked at me incredulously, until he realized I was merely teasing him. For the first time in ages, he threw his head back and laughed. How I loved his innocent laugh! Whenever he laughed (a rare event), it was as if he had forgotten how horrible life had been to him. It was such a wonderful sound! I could not resist from joining in. For several minutes, we tried to regain our composure, until he looked at me again and lost it at the sight of the gown.

Finally, we began to stroll toward the opera house. I snuck inside, making sure not to awaken any of the sleeping ballet girls. They would be the first to tell my managers where I was, and my managers would be the first to tell Raoul. Entering my dressing room made me giddy; I had the opportunity to have a new life. I put on Erik's favorite dress, knowing that it was the first time we could ever be together. He smiled when he saw me.

"Are you trying to impress me?" he said teasingly. He took my hand and spun me, until I was against his chest. I met his eyes and leaned in to kiss him…

He backed away. My breath caught in my throat. Was I not good enough for him? I leaned in once more and caressed his cheek with my hand.

He turned from me abruptly. "I'm—I'm sorry, I can't," he whispered.

Tears sprang to my eyes. "Why, Erik? Is my love not enough? Is there," I gulped, "Someone else? Did I do something wrong?"

"Christine, you are an angel, and how can a demon kiss an angel? Perhaps you should return to the opera house; it is rather late and you need sleep."

"Erik, I do not wish to return to the opera house. I would much rather stay here with you"

"I must insist; I am sure there are more appropriate suitors there—"

"Will you please stop?"

"Christine?"

"Your self-hatred is infuriating! I only need one suitor! I only want one suitor: you!" I began stomping toward him; he backed away quickly. "I made my choice! If I did not want you, why would I be here? I chose you long ago! I will want you for every minute of every day, from now until eternity. Why can't you understand that?" The tears finally overflowed. "I want to kiss you, I want to love you, and I want to be with you. Please, let me kiss you."

He stared at me in shock. Apparently, he had not expected such an outburst. "Are you certain?" He cautiously crept toward me. I took his hands; I could feel his heart pounding. Did I truly frighten him so? How could he worry about how I felt when he could scarcely be near me without panicking?

"Erik, you are nothing but a man." I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his bloated ones. In that instance, I knew I was truly in love with him. With Raoul, kissing was short and dull. With Erik, days could have passed and I would have never noticed. I held myself as close to him as I could, until curiousity about his response overtook me. Did he enjoy kissing me as much as I enjoyed kissing him?

I pulled away and looked into his eyes; he seemed shocked. "Erik... Is something the matter?"

"No, my dear. I simply cannot believe you did that."

I giggled and leaned in once more; when we were finished, he kissed me on my forehead.

"Christine?"

"Yes, my Angel?"

"Are you not disgusted? Do I not horrify you?"

I gazed at him in disbelief. "Do you truly believe I would be here with you if I was?"

A slow smile came across his face, and he took my arm. "Where to, my Angel?"

"With you, anywhere would suffice," I whispered. With that, we left for the next adventure of our lives.

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**Yay, happy couple! However, there's more to this story... Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

** Hey everyone! Thanks for the wonderful reviews. I promise next chapter will be fluffy fluff, but I needed to put this one on first in order for the story to make sense later. Sorry!**

**Surprise! I still don't own anything.**

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**Raoul**

Months had passed since I had last seen Christine. I hoped she had left her demon; or, better yet, he had left her. I stumbled into the same bar that I visited every night. Drinking numbed the pain and gave me ideas on how to win my love back. I needed her!

Christine had hurt me deeply. Prior to her departure, I had always believed that I was invincible. I was strong enough to fight my family's disapproval and that demon's horrendous behavior. I thought I was strong enough to win her! Unfortunately, I could not have been more off. She chose that demon, that murderer! I could have given her everything, but she chose a monster instead. I had lost without reason.

Thinking about Christine wasn't worth the emotional toll, I decided. She was nothing but a chorus girl. How many other chorus girls fawned over me every day? Ten or eleven girls wanted me every day. That did not even include the prima donnas… I suddenly noticed a very familiar face. The sight brought back horrible memories, memories which I could scarcely afford to think about. _Why on earth_, I mused, _would Carlotta be here? Why was she not being the diva at the opera house?_

"Signora, how are you today? Why are you not on the stage, as you should be?" I purred. Perhaps she knew where Christine was. I knew their relationship was strained, but they had shared a common bond, had they not? The arts were valuable to both of them, although I had never understood why.

"My precious patron! Where is your ingénue? We miss her at the theatre—at least, some of them do," she slurred. "I rather resent the rest of them! My song shall live again, until she returns. Then, she will ruin me! Where is the little flower?"

"She's away," I said firmly. How I hoped she wouldn't question me further!

"Do you not know, monsieur? Do you really not know where your fiancée is?"

"Of course I know!" I replied qngrily. "I am her betrothed, am I not? She merely needed a holiday for her… health. After that horrible affair, how can I blame her? She needed to improve greatly; I haven't seen her in a few months."

"So she will RETURN! Oh, that precious child. She will return to steal my stardom!" Breathing quickly, beads of sweat trickled down her brow.

"Signora, no. When she returns, I will forbid her from singing. She WILL," I emphasized, "be a married woman. It would be too inappropriate. You shall still be the star. I will never let her bother you again."

"You LIE! La Carlotta will be no more! You're just saying it to please me!"

With that, she started humming that song from so long ago. "Light up the stage with that age-old RAP-PO-O-ORT, sing prima donna, once MORE!"

I cringed at the sound of her voice. Had I really told Christine that Carlotta was the true star? That was quite a cruel comment on my behalf. Still, that little brat deserved it, didn't she? She had told me I only noticed because of her stardom! It wasn't entirely true. Yes, if she was still a chorus girl, I would have never noticed her, but I still remembered her! She was still my Lotte, as she always had been. I had loved her as a child, and I loved her as a star. She was my little Lotte. MY Lotte, not that fool's.

It was for the best, my family told me. Other women (women of noble birth, not orphans at an opera house) were more appropriate. She was much too adventurous for a woman. Women were supposed to respect their husbands, and not run off with…

A loud crack and a sharp pain shook me from my thoughts.

"Vicomte? Is there something wrong?"

I had shattered my glass! Oh, how Christine vexed me! She was going to ruin me, I knew. "Yes, perfectly alright, Madame. I just lost myself for a moment there."

Giggling like a fool, she fanned herself seductively. She offered her hand, and I kissed it obligingly. She ordered another drink and drank it quickly, as she became increasingly hysterical. "I am the star! La Carlotta is the star!"

"Please, my dear. Christine will return soon, and then you will realize that you are the only true star."

"Raoul, when will she be here?" I shuddered at how she pronounced my name, but perhaps she could help me.

"I do not know. However, can you help me find her? She must be taking your spotlight elsewhere, and we mustn't tarnish your name. You are, after all, the lovely La Carlotta. The public needs you. If I do not bring her back, no one will remember you."

She shrieked and swore several times in Italian. I attempted to keep my composure, but her outburst was too entertaining. My laughter caused her to hyperventilate once more. "So you're the one behind this! You want to ruin me! They all want to ruin me!" She began to weep.

"No, my prima donna, she is the only one who wishes to ruin you. I would have stopped her from singing the day I met her if I could have. She certainly is not as talented as you, although I heard that she is looking to take back her place in the Opera Populaire unless we find her. We have to find her, wouldn't you agree?"

"How dare she! Yes, she doesn't have MY voice. She never had my voice! Those—accidents—that's what ruined me. La Carlotta is the star! I will find her. She hasn't been here for three seasons, and she thinks she has my place! This THING must be stopped!" Carlotta might have been very drunk and ostentatious, but I knew how far she would go in order to keep her reputation. I smiled for the first time since Christine had run away with that monster.

"Yes, Carlotta, that thing must be stopped."


End file.
